


happy birthday, beautiful boy

by nerdypants



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Cuban Lance (Voltron), Happy Birthday Lance (Voltron), If You Squint - Freeform, Lance (Voltron)-centric, Lance's Birthday Week, Lance's Birthday Week 2018, just a lil short one, klance, not really but it's not MY fic if there's no hint of klance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-28
Updated: 2018-07-28
Packaged: 2019-06-17 13:40:00
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,111
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15462615
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nerdypants/pseuds/nerdypants
Summary: Lance's birthday (our main people plus Romelle and Krolia and Yorak, and pretending the castleship didn't get freaking blown up)





	happy birthday, beautiful boy

**Author's Note:**

> It's just a little one I wrote in one sitting bc I love my son and it's 1am on his birthday so enjoy!

Lance didn’t expect his birthday in space to be much of anything, but it was.

It was Hunk in Lance’s room, shaking his shoulder, grinning ear to ear.

It was Pidge in Lance’s bathroom, readying his morning routine.

It was Keith in Lance’s doorway, arms crossed, a quiet smile softening his features, Yorak the cosmic wolf sitting peacefully at his feet.

Lance got himself ready quickly but without rushing because beauty takes time, guys, and they were off to the bridge.

Then, Lance’s birthday was Shiro’s pride in his accomplishments, his talent, his determination, his strength, his existence.

It was Allura’s embrace and promise for a spa night the moment they found the time.

It was Coran’s friendly (ouch) nudge on the shoulder and music from Lance’s old playlists blasting across the speaker system.

It was Romelle’s quiet murmur, “I don’t really understand, but I wish you well,” and a pat on the shoulder that wasn’t as fleeting as usual.

It was Krolia’s nod of approval and offer to help Lance with his close combat skills- an offer she hadn’t made to anyone but her son before.

Lance sang and danced and joked and blushed, and almost jumped out of his skin when Keith tapped his shoulder and began to pull him backwards.

“C’mon, Lance, come see your cake,” he said. Lance eagerly followed.

Hunk’s creation was truly a masterpiece, a wonder to behold. Somehow, space ingredients could be combined into a dessert almost the size of Lance and Hunk together, though   
only half looked like cake and other parts looked like Jell-O or melted ice cream or rock candy. Everything was blue and red and green and yellow and black, and Lance definitely didn’t cry just a little at the sight. Hunk definitely didn’t cry, either.

Space flavors were wild as a rule, and Lance’s birthday cake was no exception. The paladins gleefully stuffed their faces with as many flavor combinations as they could, competing for how many storg’lic crystals they could fit in their mouths without gagging.

Shiro won, and when Keith and Pidge wouldn’t stop laughing, none of them would explain what exactly was so funny. Shiro must have known, because his face went redder than Keith’s armor and he spat the crystals out with a very impressive strangled noise.

Krolia and the Alteans were content to watch and laugh, all of them too familiar with space cooking to fool around. Coran had started making play-by-play narration of the fun sometime around cake layer 3, a crumbly yellow block that Hunk had intended to be lemony but ended up syrup-sweet with an extraterrestrial punch.   
Layer 8, a green, pastry-like disc, somehow made its way into Yorak’s mouth, and he immediately began farting floral-scented bubbles like none of them had ever seen. Pidge took pictures. Hunk wondered if maybe the root he had put in it was some kind of soap.

When most of the cake was gone, gifts appeared. The group had collaborated to find as many games as possible, including two video games, a card game, a picture game, a ball, plus a mountain of bizarre looking equipment that promised competition and skill. They’d collected beauty products and clothes in the styles of a dozen of Lance’s favorite planets to visit, and each promised they would let him play with their hair at a time of his choosing.

Then Pidge’s sweatshirt beeped, and she pulled out a little device with a notification flashing green.

“They’re all in!” 

Her grin was contagious. Lance’s smile was already growing when he asked, “What’s in?”

“I’ll show you.”

Pidge stood up from her spot on top of the kitchen table and handed over her device, tapping the screen once. “They can’t see you. And don’t touch,” she warned as kindly as she could.

Plaxum appeared on the screen first, and then his other mermaid friends. They waved and chorused greetings, and Lance grinned. Queen Luxia swam to the front of the group, and wished him the happiest of birthdays, blue paladin, and told him he was a blessing to the universe.

Lance blushed, just a little.

The video changed, and Lance saw Kolivan and a bunch of masked Blade of Marmora members. They wished him stiff birthday wishes, and Lance snuck a glance at Keith and his mom. Both were glowing. Lance blushed a little more.

The video changed again and again, and more allies and members of the coalition wished him a happy birthday and thanked him for his service and what was that feeling in Lance’s chest? It was warm and liquid and pure, positivity and the weight of a thousand assurances that he had universal worth. Lance watched as aliens he’d never seen shouted words to him that he didn’t understand, allies of allies that all wished him the best in their own language and their own custom. 

Somehow, the team had done this for Lance. Somehow, they’d known how to get under his skin and he hadn’t felt this known in all this time living in space, not since he’d last seen his family. 

In his hands, the video screen turned off. Lance looked up and studied each face around him, all these people that loved him. His second family.

“Thank you,” he said. Their answers were their smiles, their nods, their pride in him.

Suddenly, an alarm blared and blue lights circled the kitchen. Lance jumped down from the countertop and took a step for the door, reluctantly heading out for his paladin armor, before realizing the rest of the group were grinning and heading for the bridge instead.

Not an alert? “Guys?” He looked around, confused, relieved, his good mood still caught in waves within his chest, and Keith stepped forward and took his hand, squeezing it tight. Lance’s heart leapt all on its own, and suddenly he felt very grateful he had already been blushing red and no one could see the new heat flushing his face.

“We’re almost home,” Keith said.

Lance’s reaction soothed any worries the others might have had- should we have told him sooner? We called ahead- because his expression was the happiest any of them had seen on him in months. Years?

He gasped, whooped, raced for the bridge as fast as he could. Keith followed, still holding his hand, and the rest ran to catch up as much as they could. If little tears slipped out of the eyes of each homesick paladin when Earth appeared on the castleship’s screen, no one said anything.

Whatever condition the Earth was in when they landed, this was the best birthday present Lance ever could have asked for.

They were home.


End file.
